


Sleeping Through the Colonial Fleet: The Many Stories of Ellen Tigh

by viciouswishes



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-09 21:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellen might've been a drunk and a slut, but she wasn't a fool. Or was she when it came to Saul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Through the Colonial Fleet: The Many Stories of Ellen Tigh

Ellen met her first husband when she was 17-years-old, and when he hit her two days into their honeymoon, she wasn't surprised. Black swollen eye, she stumbled to an outdoor bar and got drunk.

Growing up, she'd been a good girl. Always doing what daddy told her. Ellen dutifully finished her homework and her chores. The wood of her bedroom floor shone.

"Dance with me," Ellen said to Bill Adama the first time she met him. He turned her down to ignore his sons and smoose with the admirals. She knew the value of contacts, bargains, and flirting. She might've been a drunk and a slut, but she wasn't a fool.

Galactica hummed constantly, but Saul snored through it. "You old fool," she whispered. Ellen wrapped the sash around her bathrobe. Respectable as she ever cared to be. The cool metal grate of ship made her feet tingle as she tiptoed out of their room. Officers ran around like they didn't notice the blonde middle-aged woman in a pink silk robe wandering the hallways. Adama's crew was always too polite.

Ellen watched her mother berated by her father. They moved again and never had enough for anything. Ellen hid under the bed to avoid them. Heavy black boots tread over the wooden floor. The light from the crack of the doorway illuminated them. They came toward her like shadows on cloudy days. Silently, she clutched her idol of Artemis.

One week before they were married, Ellen watched Saul fly a Viper from the bridge of a forgotten Battlestar. She figured that by the way he flew his plane, jagged and showy, that she'd be living the luxurious life of a widow. (Okay, she might've been fooled that Tigh was too stubborn to die.) But in the early days, she didn't mind. She loved him.

Her foot definitely bumped up against something hard in Lee's military formals. Yep, still got it. Even if all the boy wanted was his daddy's approval. Daddy's approval was something no one had in Ellen's experience.

Saul offered Ellen his hand. More calloused than Adama's. "You said you wanted to dance." She smiled and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. His arms were soft and strong against her, and he'd had more hair then. "You're Bill's boy, aren't you?" she said. Adama was ambitious career military. Everyone knew the stories. Ellen fell in love with Saul at second glance.

"Frak, me," Ellen groaned to the fly boy. He'd already undone her pink slash. Her words only echoed off the bolts of Galactica.

Ellen caught Laura's eye. She admired and hated the woman for the way she manhandled Bill. And he didn't even know it. Bill had saw through Ellen so many years ago, but had fallen for Laura. Laura was mythical in the way that Ellen wasn't. Ellen felt like common trash and drank the rest of her glass. "More?" Laura said, holding up the Ambrosia.

Sighing, Ellen leaned back into the pillows. Caprica was always lovely this time of year. Her hand touched Saul's chest. She wanted to hear his heart beat more than the tides of the ocean. "I love you," Ellen said. "I know," Saul responded and reached down to cup her ass. She moved her hand to his face. "But you need to shave this mustache." And they both laughed.

One black night, Ellen wrote a note. _I'm not coming back. Don't try to find me. Frak you. Ellen._ She went back and erased her name. He better know who left him that note. Her hand automatically went to the crest of her cheek and the fresh bruise.

"The only thing classified is your feelings," Ellen once told Saul. Then she kissed him like men fucked her. Saul wore his feelings on the pressure of his tongue. She had every privilege of a XO's wife.

The stone in her ring caught the sunset. Tiny crystals danced against the tabletop and the tequila quickly became her only friend. Pain bounced through her skull from her eye. Ellen decided that men were evil and that shoes were overrated. Especially on a beach.

Ellen knew she'd been a coma, but she couldn't remember. She snorted. From what she knew about comas, not remembering was the point. Bill came to take her back to Saul and she almost cried. Then she did when she saw her husband again.

When Saul left, Ellen threw a glass at the wall. But Saul stalked out the door with suitcase in hand. "Come back," she shouted. "You'll come back. I'm the best you'll ever have. Bill can't love you the way I do. You spent your nights alone on that ship. You'll be back." Her second glass crumpled in her hand. Cheap trash made on Sagittaron. Tears mixed with the blood. "Please come back," she whispered.

Ellen never came to bed smelling of another man. Her robe hung dutifully on the chair next to their bed. Saul's snoring stopped when Ellen's elbow touched the mattress. He buried his head in her breasts and mumbled. She thought about taking him dancing at her favorite Cloud 9 club.

No matter the men she fucked, Ellen loved Saul. Loved Saul through everything and everyone. She just couldn't imagine him being the last one between her thighs.


End file.
